


Scent of Blood

by junko



Series: Chasing Demons [37]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s), Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:38:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji was serious when he told Byakuya he couldn't sleep in Aizen's bed.  He just couldn't tell him all the reasons....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scent of Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Edited because I idiotically forgot to thank my beta reader, Josey, for her help and insight (and typo correction.)

Renji stayed awake a long time, holding Byakuya’s hand and listening to him breathe. When he was sure Byakuya was asleep, he carefully untangled his fingers and got up out of Aizen’s bed.

“Sorry,” he whispered at the door, sliding it shut, “But, I told you I couldn’t sleep here.” It wasn’t just the scent of Aizen that had him feeling agitated and restless. There was someone he needed to see.

Renji’s bare feet padded softly under the portico until he came to the lieutenant’s quarters. Sensing the presence of a healer on the other side, Renji knocked softly. When the door slid tentatively open, Renji recognized the medic from his days in the Fifth, “Hey, Fujiwara! Any chance for a private moment with Lieutenant Hinamori?”

Fujiwara blinked sleepily, “Abarai? It’s three a.m. What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

“Dude, it’s way past the middle,” he said with a little smile. He pointed to the bandage on his chin. “Didn’t your colleague tell you? I sort of had a shunpō accident, a massive face skid. The captain decided it was best to sleep it off here.”

“Sleep it off? Are you drunk?”

“If I say ‘yes,’ you’ll never let me see Momo, will you?” Renji asked. The medic’s frown was very deep. “C’mon, Fujiwara, you know I’m good for it. How long do Momo and I go back, anyways, huh?”

Fujiwara continued to look disapproving, but his shoulders slumped like he’d already decided to give in. “All right. I need a cup of tea, anyway. I suppose you can have as long as it takes for me to get one from the mess.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.”

“Damn straight,” Fujiwara muttered. After they exchanged a bit more information about warning signs and whatnot, the medic shuffled off sleepily in the direction of the mess hall with mutters of “highly irregular, highly irregular....”

Renji let himself in the darkened room and closed the door.

Momo lay on her bedroll, her hands folded neatly on her thin, tiny chest, like she was sleeping peacefully… or dead. Renji sat down next to her on the floor, and put his hand on her forehead briefly, just to reassure himself that she was, in fact, alive. Her skin was cool and clammy, but he could see her chest rise and fall shallowly. Renji carefully fixed the bangs he’d dislodged and then sat back, gripping his hands in his lap.

Momo had a small window that was slid open to let in the fresh evening air. Moonlight did no favors to her pallid complexion, making her face seem drawn and her eyes sunken. The medic had kept her hair the way she liked it, all tied back and covered with a piece of lace, like an old-lady bun. Renji couldn’t even remember a time when he’d seen it down.

But Aizen had.

The fucking bastard.

“What were you thinking, Momo?” he asked quietly. He’d smelled it, of course. There was only so much that fresh sheets could cover. “Please tell me it wasn’t your first time.”

But the scent of blood had been there, too.

Of course, Renji couldn’t be sure. Maybe the two of them were into.… No, somehow that thought was worse. Renji scowled. All the images that sprang to mind were bad, and he couldn’t get any of them out of his head.

“What’s with the three of us and our captains, huh?” he asked her. Kira had gotten himself fucked over hard by that weasel Ichimaru, Momo had completely lost herself to Aizen, and he….

Renji found he had to look away, only to end up staring at the moon.

“I guess he was my first too, in a way,” Renji told her, his eyes still riveted to that cold, distant face. “I mean, not like you and… but, you know, taking it instead of giving it. It’s a new position for me, see?”

He glanced down at her then, even though he could sense the ‘forced slumber’ that kept her body in healing mode. And, Renji suspected, kept her from a hysterical meltdown.

At that thought something dark curled around itself deep in his gut. “Yeah, see, that’s the thing,” he snarled. “I’m sorry, Momo, but I didn’t want to be like you. I never want to be like you. You’re the sad case everyone pities, looks away from, is embarrassed for. Fuck that. I won’t be that guy. You and Kira, you let it break you. Well, mine’s not a villain, he’s just... sometimes, we-- ah, anyway, I can take it. I always have.”

But somehow Renji didn’t feel any better for having said that. Even though her eyes were closed, they seemed to question him.

“Look, he’s not the first guy who’s ever thought to put me in my place by giving me a smack. I’ve spent most my life either dodging blows or learning how to roll with them. Didn’t stop when I got here, either. Academy was no different, except at least I usually learned something from the beating. And, you think Kenpachi had heart-to-hearts with us when we screwed up? Sounds like maybe at the Thirteenth they did, but I was never in that division, was I?”

He glanced down at her again, at her tiny hands folded so neatly. Everything about her looked so frail, so breakable. Opening his own hand for comparison, he showed it to her.

“Jeez, I could crush your head with this. I’m six foot two, Momo. Nobody ever looks at me and thinks, ‘Damn, put that kid at the rear. We got to protect that one, or he’ll never make it.’ But you know how many times I’ve made that call? Hundreds. Because that’s who I’m supposed to be, Momo--the one that does the protecting.”

He sighed, and let his hand drop to his lap again.

“I’ve got at least three inches and about thirty pounds on him. If he were a normal guy, there’d be no question. Everybody would be looking to me, telling _me_ I’d better not hurt  him.”

Gently, Renji smoothed the hair on her forehead. The breeze was picking up outside and it had ruffled a lock out of place. After pulling the covers closer to her shoulders, Renji got up and walked around her bed roll to slide the window shut a bit. He left a sliver open, and he took a moment to breath in the cool night air. The moon had started to sink on the horizon, but everything was still bathed in its silver, ghostly glow.

Leaning his elbow on the frame, Renji looked out at the Fifth Division’s practice yard, “But, yeah, that’s the fuck all, isn’t it? I never would, would I? Despite how I look, I’m not really the type to raise my hand for no reason. You know I’ve started my share of fights, finished plenty, too, but, I can’t think of a time I hit somebody just to make them shut up—unless they were trash talking or bullying someone I cared about. Though, I suppose I’d consider it if someone was really annoying.”

Renji turned back to where Momo lay.

“I probably should’ve let him apologize, huh?” Renji asked her. Of course, she had no response, not even an eye flutter. Carefully, he made his way back around the bed. He sat back down heavily and put his hands on his thighs. “Instead, I think I made him promise to hit me harder. What the fuck is wrong with me, Momo?”

Letting out a little dark chuckle at himself, Renji tugged at the end of his braid. He sucked and chewed on the ends a bit, thinking.

“What’s Ukitake going to think when he sees this?” he asked her, showing off his chin, as though she could see it. “He’s going to think Byakuya did it, that’s what. And, anything I say, even the truth? He’s going to think I’m covering for him. I think that’s what I hate the most about this. Those two. They took away what little power I had. You see, now I can’t even be trusted-- not to tell the truth, not to make my own decisions. Because everything that happens between us, they’re going to be seeing it like I’ve got no choice in the matter, like he’s the one holding every card. Except the Joker. That’s me now. That’s all I get.”

He tossed the braid back over his shoulder.

“You see? I’m in a bind, Momo. So what do I do? I fight. That’s all I’ve ever known to do. Except… I’m not so sure it’s working this time. And… I… fuck all, I feel lost.”

There was a polite clearing of a throat at the door.

Renji had been so deep in his own thoughts, he never noticed the medic until he was already standing there, with the door half open. “Hey,” Renji said, pulling himself to his feet with a groan. He brushed off his shitage and retightened the obi. “I talked her ear off, but, otherwise, she’s in good shape.” He glanced down at her, and shrugged, “So far as I can tell, anyway.”

Fujiwara offered a second bowl he held in his hand. He seemed a bit embarrassed as he offered, “I, uh, got you a cup. I thought it might help you sober up.”

Renji snorted a laugh, coming over take the bowl from him. “You’d be surprised what a nosedive at high speeds will do for that.” He rubbed his shoulder with his free hand. “I must be coming down now, anyway. I’m starting to feel it.”

“Oh, I could do something about that,” Fujiwara said. He set the tea bowl on a nearby table, and Renji could feel the instant rise in spiritual pressure.

“Nah, save that for Momo,” Renji said with a glance back. “You don’t need to waste it on some fool drunk who ricocheted through the Seireitei.”

The medic laughed lightly, and put his hand on Renji’s arm. “My stores aren’t so small as all that. And, no one should be in pain, never mind the reasons.”

All the air seemed to be sucked from Renji’s lungs at the simple kindness. Then there was an amazing flood of warmth and all the ache receded into a faraway place. Renji blinked when Fujiwara’s hand left him, and said, “Damn, you should bottle that.”

Giving Renji a pat on the shoulder, he held the door for him. “I’m pretty sure Captain Kurotsuchi is trying to.”

#

Renji set the still hot tea down near Byakuya’s nose and poked him again. This time he managed to elicit a very crisp, irritated, “It can’t possibly be time to wake up yet. Go away.”

“So, yeah, I take it back,” Renji said. He sat cross-legged on Aizen’s mattress, his knee up against Byakuya’s back. Byakuya was curled on his side. With a huff, Byakuya pulled a pillow down over his head. Renji managed to rescue the bowl just in time, and he raised his voice to be heard, “And I accept your apology.”

“What exactly are you nattering on about?” Byakuya asked, lifting a bit of the pillow in order to skewer Renji with a glare. “Is it even dawn?”

Renji glanced thoughtfully at the sky. “Not for a few hours, I’d guess. Listen, I just have a couple of things to say, so it won’t take much time. Then you can sleep. Thing is, I’ve been thinking about all that stuff with Ukitake and Kyōraku and you and me.”

The pillow slid down, off Byakuya’s face to get tucked up against his chest, and, though Byakuya’s eyes were closed, he seemed to be listening very intently.

Renji continued, “I should let you apologize. And, I guess I should accept your promise. But, the thing is, this ain’t the first time someone swore to me that never do it again. That they’d change. That things would be different from now on. No one I’ve ever known could keep that stupid promise. Sure, it would last for a few days, but it always ended with me wondering what the fuck it was about me that--“ Renji stopped, took a breath, and started again. “But, that’s the past. I’m not in Inuzuri anymore and you’re not those people. I’ve decided that maybe you’re not like anyone I’ve ever known. So you get a chance to prove it.”

Byakuya’s eyes were open now and he turned around.

“But, I still don’t like it,” Renji said. “And I want you to know why. It’s not just a stupid promise because no one can keep it. It’s stupid because it’s not even what’s important. I wish you’d promise to respect me, to treat me like you would someone you loved—like Hisana, maybe. But, I don’t know what that was really like, so maybe that’s not the right promise either.” Renji took in a deep breath. “I also don’t like it because it leaves the outcome up to you, you know? I was serious with Kyōraku. I hate not being part of the decision. It should be up to me when I’ve had enough of your bullshit. Otherwise, it’s everybody else telling me how to feel and what I want. At that point, I might as well be like Momo—just lay down and let everyone walk all over me.”

“No, Renji,” Byakuya said, his hand reaching out to tentatively rest against Renji’s thigh and give it a squeeze. “That’s not why I must keep my promise to Ukitake. It’s not meant to rob you of your power, but return it you. I’ve treated you like I’m your master, not your lover.”

Renji discovered he was chewing the end of his braid again. “I did notice that.”

Byakuya smiled lightly, sadly. “And yet I hadn’t. Perhaps that's the promise I should make: to pay better attention.”

Renji snorted a laugh. 

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s just that you’re always telling me not to let my guard down,” Renji said.

“Yes,” Byakuya said solemnly, “And all along it’s been me who’s had the blind spot.”

Pulling the braid from his mouth, Renji unwound himself and crawled under the covers. After a moment of looking into Byakuya’s serious face, he nodded. “Yeah, you know what? You _are_ different from anyone I’ve ever known.”

Byakuya’s lips pursed momentarily. “I should hope so.”

Renji fluffed up his pillow and lay his head down. He turned to face Byakuya, his fingers reaching out to tug at the hair that fell, free from the kenseikan, in front of his face. “I still don’t like the idea of you holding back, you know. Because if you ask me, you do too much of that already.”

Making a sleepy sound, Byakuya nuzzled into Renji’s palm. “I’m no longer vowing to hold back, you recall. Only to think before I act.”

Renji leaned forward and kissed Byakuya’ forehead. “Yeah, I guess that’s okay, but I kind of like it when you don’t think so hard, though--when you let yourself lose control.” He leaned in to Byakuya’s ear and let his voice drop to a growl, “Because that’s really sexy.”

Byakuya grunted and put his hands on Renji’s chest as though to hold him back. “Renji, I’m constantly in awe of your stamina, but we simply can’t. Not here.”

“How about behind the changing screen?”

“No.”

“In the bathroom?”

“Renji.”

“Okay, okay,” he muttered. “Then stop being so sexy so I can get some sleep.”

Byakuya pulled the pillow back over his head. From underneath he said, “How’s this?”

“That’s not working. Now you’re too cute.”

Pulling himself out from under the pillow, Byakuya sighed. “Then I’m afraid there’s nothing for it. If my beauty is impossible to resist, you’ll simply have to sleep somewhere else.”

Renji shook his head. “Nah, I’ll suffer. Just... fix your hair. All that jumble is making me crazy.”

Byakuya dutifully ran his fingers through his hair, pulling out the snarls. “Everything about me makes you crazy.”

Renji laughed, “True, that.” Then, with sigh, Renji rolled away from Byakuya and closed his eyes, determined to get at least an hour in before sunrise. 

As he started to drift, he felt Byakuya’s hand rest on his waist. Byakuya curled up to his back and whispered, “I will try to treat you like I would have Hisana, but…. Sometimes, I think I’m cruel to you because I’m afraid that loving you with all my heart will mean losing you.”

What an idiot. Didn’t he know it was already too late? “You can’t lose me, Taicho,” Renji said without turning around. “Just you try it. I’m like a bad penny.”

A soft chuckle in his hair was followed by a contented, “Indeed.”


End file.
